Violets and Seashells
by SeleneSoulwar
Summary: A battered and bruised violet, given with a shaky hand and childlike affection - received with stoic passivity. Unbeknownst to Demyx, however, Zexion chooses to preserve his token for the years to come. AU Zemyx fluff.


_A.N.: _

_Just a quick, silly idea that popped in in my head in between two French essays and the update between the enormous chapters of my multichaptered stories..._

_I blame my iPod, set on a section of slow, deep romantic songs, and even though I am not satisfied with how it's written altogether...well. _

_*smirks wryly* _

_I just wanted to write something light and sweet. All the things I've been writing lately are really pretty heavy and angsty - and as much as I love them and all the opportunities they present...well, behind all the pshychoness, I am indeed a female who has a soft spot for romance and fluff._

_And by romance, I don't mean diamond-encrusted necklaces, bouquets, roomfulls of candles and perfume-drenched promises._

_No, I mean attentiveness and small, personal gifts._

_A flower. A gentle squeeze of a hand, a gentle kiss, a song that makes me smile._

_So, there you have it. One among the many little drabbles, more or less related to one another...XXD_

_This was more or less inspired by Taylor Swift's 'Love Story'…_

_And because I imagine Zexion to be the sort of person who insults and mocks their efforts and gifts - to cherish it when he thinks no-one is looking C:_

_AU-ish setting, of when they are both around seven-nine years old._

_Disclaimer: All characters belong to Square Enix. I'm just playing with them._

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"T-this is for you."

Glancing up from his book with an annoyed look, Zexion's words died on his lips as he was presented with a torn-looking violet, clutched in a small, grubby hand.

Blinking several times, he raised an eyebrow, tearing his gaze from the mutilated flower to the blushing face of the brunette, who was struggling (and failing quite spectacularly) to hide any signs of how flustered he was.

One would think presenting a flower for the quiet boy with glasses he had grown to admire over the past months wouldn't be such a demanding task.

_Oh, noooooo. _

That's exactly why his hand was shaking and his throat felt so damned dry…

Zexion hummed curtly before gingerly plucking the flower from Demyx's hand with his thumb and forefinger, holding it a few inches away from his face, regarding it with such an expression that Demyx felt his stomach sink, low hopes crushed by the sudden gravity of reality.

He swore the poor violet just wilted further under Zexion's scrutinizing glare.

"…I am not even going to ask what you put the poor flower through." He said in the end, voice dry as he gingerly wrapped a finger around the frail stalk, looking back up at the other, who was rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"W-well…I d…didn't want to miss you before you went home and then Axel said we should race to the bottom of the hill and I sort of-"

The slate-haired boy's gaze lingered on the other's grazed knees before looking back up, unimpressed azure meeting wary sea-green.

"Maybe you should try not tripping over your own feet." He said a little coldly, drawing his legs under himself, promptly ignoring the other boy's flinch.

Dropping his arm, Demyx shuffled on his feet before waving awkwardly.

"…um…I…" he swallowed before dropping his head. "I'll see you around then, Zexy."

With the brave sigh of defeat and a fraction of the sunny smiles he usually parted from the smaller with, he turned his back on Zexion and ran back down the path. The slate-haired boy could make out the figures of his friends, waiting by the fence – the splash of vibrant red and that ridiculous shade of pink was impossible not to recognize. He caught a fraction of the redhead's laughter and the pink-haired male(…?)'s shrieked of indignation, rather impolitely inquiring about the state of Demyx's mind to treat the poor violet in such rough manner.

True friendship was such a beautiful thing…

Only when their voices faded in the soft background noises of the spring wind did Zexion carefully uncurl his fist, dipping his head to inspect the violet carefully.

Apart from the torn and crushed edges of the petals, the flower was indeed a beautiful one, with its oddly crumpled heart-shaped petals, forming a loose embrace of velvety colour – a deep purple, with tints of inky blue, fading into washed-out azure towards the centre.

Slender milky fingers closed around it once again, protectively, taking great care not to crush the petals any further as he collected his book and scuttled off the bench and took the path twisting to the opposite direction as the brunette and his friends.

Glancing down at his fist ever so often, Zexion immediately placed it on the windowsill carefully before pushing the chair next to the bookshelf, climbing on it with some difficulty (cursing his height – or the lack of it – with all the annoyance and ferocity he could muster with his seven-year old vocabulary) and after ten excruciating minutes of manoeuvring, managed to pull the large, leather bound dictionary free.

Heaving a sigh of relief when his feet hit the ground, book held safely in his arms and all important limbs intact, the slate-haired boy pushed the book onto the table and flipped it open, stroking the yellowed pages with a soft, reserved affection before pausing when a large, finely calligraphic 'D' came into view.

Leaning across the table to pull a few tissues from their plastic container, Zexion carefully plucked the flower up from the windowsill and wrapped it in a soft cocoon before setting it in between the pages.

Hesitantly smoothing across the package, he petted it gently with the tip of his fingertips before closing the book, sandwiching the flower and pressing it even and flat.

Tracing along the ridge of the spine, Zexion reached to smooth his fringe out of his eyes, allowing the smile that has been tugging at his lips since the brunette stuttered the shy offer back in the park to flood his features.

Foolish idiot, the brunette was.

And here was Zexion, preserving the token of his idiocy for the next years to come, face lit by the fond, warm smile the poor, eager boy would never see.

Which was probably why the latter was so confused when upon his next visit to the park, there was a small, spiky seashell lying innocently on the bench the slate-haired boy usually occupied with his book and stoic frown.

Who of course, upon their next meeting, denied everything, claiming the other must have skipped out on his breakfast and was talking nonsense – claiming it as a perfect excuse to scold the astonished (and rather confused) brunette upon the importance of daily meals and the other's foolishness for so obviously missing them.

Nevertheless, years later, when Zexion set foot in Demyx's messy apartment for the first time (artistically arranged, the brunette supplied helpfully, not messy), he couldn't help but gape like a prized goldfish when the sight of a very familiar shell, with all its shabby white sheen, greeted him on the musician's overcrowded bookshelf, placed carefully in plain sight.

Needless to say, Demyx was a little miffed when the slate-haired male labelled him as a sap in between soft, pleased purrs against his neck, arms wrapped tight around his waist – annoyance quickly fading when Zexion smiled, showing his appreciation in his own, quiet and sly fashion.

And of course, it was needless to say that the fact he kept the pressed, bruised little violet, safe under a glass frame, carefully propped against the wall on his bedside table was kept perfectly unvoiced by Zexion.

_Hope you enjoyed ^^ Review please?_


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